One Last Time to be renamed soon
by whitemagemeister
Summary: It's almost senior graduation for Tamaki, and the Host Club is taking it pretty hard. TamaHaru hints, Two or Threeshot.


I don't own any of the characters in Ouran High School Host Club. I'm just an obsessive fangirl who needs an outlet.

The old waxed hallways seemed far too long just then. It was a silly thought; she had walked them so many times before between classes and after hours with the club. But when your terrified and need to escape, they rise, high over your head, the walls bearing down on you, the windows scowling at the floor, stretching into an impossible eternity for the pure purpose of mocking your position beneath them. At least, that's how Haruhi felt that evening.

Summer was in the air around Ouran High School that day. The girls were beginning to show signs of tanning through their short-sleeved uniform dresses, while the boys discarded their jackets and rolled up their sleeves to beat the heat. Commoner lemonade seemed to be beating out instant coffee as the #1 drink of the school these days. Everything and everyone seemed to have sparks running through their veins, anticipating the end of yet another school year. Everyone except, surprisingly, the infamous Host Club.

In the past month or so, the air had gotten thick in the third music room. On the surface, the Host Club was as cheerful as they'd ever been. Hikaru and Kaoru tricked Tamaki into embarrassing himself on a daily basis, Tamaki was oblivious to everything except himself, Kyoya was happily raking in the cash from his newly formed kick-the-can league, and Haruhi was, well…practical. They were as predictable as clockwork.

However, once hosting hours were over, the group seemed to die and go their separate ways. The truth was, everyone was miserable. Because, as foolish as they acted, none of them were stupid. Everyone knew what would happen in the few weeks ahead, and the thought of it was enough to silence any optimistic thoughts.

" This is dumb!" Hikaru shouted one not-so-special evening while the others cleaned up. "Why do we even bother if all we're gonna do is sit here and mope around? We're wasting time still doing this!" Scooching his chair out and standing up, Hikaru made a beeline for the door, with a distressed Kaoru at the back of his heels. The door swung shut with an earsplitting "Thwam!" No one moved, or looked, or breathed, or blinked. Haruhi chanced a look across her shoulder at Tamaki, leaning on a music stand. The aura of his downcast eyes resonated across the room. She didn't need him to face her to know they were there.

Quickly, quietly, efficiently, they finished their chores and left. Hikaru came back the next day, of coarse, but nothing changed in the days after. Soon, all conversation outside of hosting ceased, all weekend trips were cancelled for finals studying, and no one had the heart to call him, tell him things would work out. Tamaki would never buy it, after all. Who could tell a lie from truth better than the goofball who put on his happy face every day for their makeshift family? Who could ever tell a strait-faced lie to their father? Their mentor? Their Sempai?

Graduation was rapidly approaching. Next year, Tamaki would be gone to college. Next year, the Host Club would die without resistance, and its members would return to their respective meaningless lives without a prayer that they'd ever feel at peace again. The best years of their lives were over, and nothing, no matter how much they willed it, could change that cold fact.

"I…I wanna take you out again…" Hikaru stumbled over words as if they were cobblestones beneath his polished shoes. It was one of the rarest of sights, his blushing face and screwy smirk lowered at the floor, thumbs twiddling, posture strait and rigid, eyes darting around, and never at, her frame. Hikaru was nervous, any idiot could see that, and Haruhi was certainly no idiot; she had the GPA to prove it. However, there she stood, wide-eyed and obviously perplexed. "Why? You don't need to do it again. I accepted it as Kaoru's apology, remember? I'm…" Her innocent response cut short when Hikaru's hand shot over her mouth. "NO." And index finger waved off the tip of her nose. "You're not getting it. I'm not apologizing, I'm requesting. I WANT to go out with you." His hand gently slipped off her face, the other stretched out to take hers. "Would you oblige me one date, Miss Haruhi?" Their faces both turned beat red for an instant. Haruhi paused, her indecision apparent. Hours of tension passed in a few seconds.

The spring air blew through an open window, carrying the scent of roses and fresh cut grass. The sky was so clear, it mirrored the stillness of the shallow pool just visible on the grounds below, where Haruhi first "dropped" her bag nearly two years beforehand. Heat swirled up from the sidewalk, bugs danced on the flowers, students strut across the lawn in rolled up pants and short sleeved yellow dresses. The clock tower struck in a monotone thunder. Hikaru still stood with his hand stretched to Haruhi.

She took it.

Well, there's the first chapter! Hope you all liked it. I'll update when I have time, so don't expect it too immediately. I should manage, tho. This is pretty short as far as fics go.


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